Ripped Pom Poms
by ICan'tStopBelievin
Summary: Santana takes care of an injured Brittany, who believes she's 1 year old. Others involved are Rory (Brittany's daddy, by force), and injured Quinn, who believes she's 4 years old, and Kurt and Rachel (Quinn's parents, unexpected). Warning: Santana is a little abusive to Rory. Mostly told by Santana's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own glee... but I so should try to see if I can buy rights to Rory since no one is using him anymore. **

_This is a request by Boris Yeltsin. Rory doesn't come until the end of this chapter. Enjoy! _

**The Unholy Trinity were unstoppable. Brittany, Santana and Quinn. They were, like, princesses. **

**They could do whatever they wanted, when they wanted, where they wanted - even if it meant racing down the street in the most epic joyride ever! What a great- **

_Smash. _

Brittany opened her eyes. Quinn was lying in a bed next to her, as Santana watched them.

"Mommy?" Brittany said. She seemed so damn confused. Santana was sure that Brittany had never been so confused in her life.

"I'm here, Britt," the raven-haired Latina placed a kiss on her cheek. Why did her girlfriend just refer to her as a mom? There must've been something wrong. Santana panicked as she summoned a nurse.

"What have you noticed so far?" the nurse inquired.

"She just woke up, and called me _Mommy_," was all Santana had to say. "Well, she is sort of a ding-dong sometimes, so we should just give her some time before we start suspecting." She was saying it to the nurse, but it was more like a message to herself telling her to stay calm.

She glanced over to check on Brittany, and noticed Quinn was now awake. She hurried over. "Hi, Quinn. Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, Auntie Tana," Quinn mumbled. "My tummy just hurts." She sounded like a little preschooler. That then made Santana very concerned.

"Mommy? Mommy?" she heard Brittany call in distress.

A nurse then rolled up a cart holding three plates of food. "How is it?"

Santana only looked over her shoulder. "Hi, Carole." She wouldn't turn away from her friends at this moment. Possibly not for a very long time. "Coincidence you have a shift tonight."

"Missed Finn's football game to come down here. Thought it would help to have a friend - or, at least a friend's mom - here to help."

"Thanks, Carole. But you don't have to be here. Your shift probably ended two hours ago. You should get going."

"You sure?"

"I don't want anyone else invovled in this unless they have to be."

"Well," Carole said, "at least I tried. Here's some supper for you all."

"Thanks." All Santana wanted was to be alone. Alone with no one else but her friends.

She didn't care if Brittany were to be a one year old, and if Quinn were to be a four year old. She didn't care if it happened to be permament. They were her friends, and she wanted to be with them.

Who knows? One of the three could drop dead any second now. They wouldn't know until it happened. And that's the one fear Santana had right now. She was afraid she would end up never seeing at least one of them again.

She'd spend time with them all she could. She'd use every second she was concious for them. Whatever they wanted, she'd find it, because that's just what was sitting in her heart now.

She had shed a tear when Quinn demanded, "Don't cry, Auntie Tana."

"Mommy!" Brittany wailed.

"I'm coming, Britt Britt." Santana strained her eyes to avoid anymore tears. "I know you're hungry." She gave the plate of food to Quinn, who could feed herself still. Santana and Brittany would share the two remaining meals.

"Open up, Britt." Santana offered a bite to the loopy girl in the bed.

"Auntie Tana," she heard the young Quinn say.

"Yes?"

"Are Mommy and Daddy coming to get me?"

"Uh..." Who was she talking about? She decided she would just play around for answers. "What are your parents' names? Ah, darn! I keep forgetting!"

"Kurt and Rachel, duh! Stop being so silly."

Great. Santana didn't have a clue how she would break the news to them. _"Hey, guys. You have a seventeen year old daughter." _No... _"Quinn got into an accident and now she thinks you're her mommy and daddy." _Holy fuck. This was going to be hard.

After the supper, Brittany fell back asleep. Now it was Quinn and Santana.

"Why are we here?" Quinn asked.

"We got into a car accident."

Quinn tilted her hed in slight confusion.

Santana had to learn not to use so many big words to describe things. "Um... We were in the car, and another car hit us."

"I'm okay. But, are you and Brittany okay?"

"We're fine, Quinnie." She wouldn't tell what happened.

Damn. She forgot that she had to go pick up, uh... something... from Puck's house, so that meant she would have to leave for a few quick minutes.

Once getting over that fact that she would be spending five minutes without her friends, she finally built up the courage to leave. Outside,she rushed like the world was going to end. She would have to be quick. She then bumped into soemone, and almost knocked them to the ground.

"Oh, Santana!" that thick Irish accent of the person said.

"Rory. Isn't it a little past your curfew to be prancing around town, pixie boy?"

"Where are you headed?"

"Puck's house, then back to hospital."

"Why?" A worrysome tone was floating in his voice.

"In fact, I'm glad you were out tonight. I got something to say," she pulled him closer by the shirts, and spat in his face, "So ears open, mouth shut. Nod."

He nodded, scared.

"Good. So Britt and Quinn are in the hospital. Some damn drunk sped into us while driving, and now my girls have got brain damage, and think they are little kids. Quinn's supposedly going with Lady Hummel and Yentl, and Britt's staying with me. Now since you've been mooching off her family, lying to her for sex, and stealing her potatoes at dinner, you are going to help me take care of her. You understand? Nod."

He nodded once more, before she let go of him and walked off.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own glee. **

It had been a week since Santana had taken Brittany home. Brittany had grown into her surroundings as quickly as Santana adjusted to the new life. They would've been the happiest family ever, if it weren't for Rory...

He denied being Daddy. When he finally chose to do something, most of the time, he fucking screwed it up. It had only been a few times where he did it perfect, like how Santana desired.

Santana found him useless sometimes, but he often proved he was a good baby daddy.

Baby Brittany was playing in the nursery. Santana was getting the living room clean. She then heard a wail, "Icky! Icky!"

Santana yelled, "Rory!"

The boy didn't answer.

"Rory!" She impatiently tapped her foot on the hard floor, waiting for her "slave," otherwise known as _Daddy_, to arrive.

He hurried to the bathroom. "Yes, Satan?" He coughed. "I mean... _Santana_?"

"I'm cleaning, and you're not helping. Brittany needs a diaper. So, guess what? You're going to go change her."

"I... But..."

She smacked his ass. The pain ran right through his thick jeans. She smirked. "Understand?"

"Yes, Santana," he said.

Sometimes, he just needed a small slap or two (or ten, possibly) to learn his place. It wasn't a burden. Santana chose to.

He was about to walk away when he was smacked on his sit-spot. "Ouch! What was that for?!"

"Just for fun, I guess. Now go before she gets a rash." Santana worried about Brittany, and she would do whatever she needed to. She would make sure Brittany was taken care of.

Right now, she was cleaning the living room so Brittany could come out and watch cartoons. She was cleaning the living room so Rory wouldn't have to. She was cleaning the living room free of the leftover mess from Rory's Superbowl party. She was cleaning his mess, the mess that was preventing Brittany from freedom, the mess that kept Brittany shut away in the boring, though safe, nursery.

"Santana!" she heard Rory yell. "Brittany wants you!"

"Coming, honey, sweetie!" she crooned to Brittany, scuttling to the nursery.

She glared into Rory's eyes. He was scared as hell. He grew wide-eyed, and in fear, lost his breath. He backed away.

She asked him, "Want a whooping?"

He shook his head, frightened.

"Then go finish cleaning. Sooner you get done, and better the quality, the less mad I am."

He scurried off. She gave all her attention to Brittany, cooing and shrieking playfully to the girl as she snapped a diaper on her.

Brittany was precious. She was gentle. She was sweet. She was perfect.

"Mommy!" she demanded adorably, "Bah, bah!"

"You hungry, babe?"


End file.
